


Not Deliberate

by Suchsmallhands



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Holidays, Los Angeles, M/M, New Year's Eve, North America, One Shot, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:38:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9118099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suchsmallhands/pseuds/Suchsmallhands
Summary: Louis meets up with Harry at a New Year's Eve party a long way from home.He found the curly head of hair among the crowd, angled away from the people, shoulders relaxed under his silky shirt. He still looked casual, as if perfectly straddling the line between pretentious and relatable. The orange light from the doors behind him cast warmth over his back while the light of the city left his face cold.





	

Louis stepped through the dazzling guests, glitter sheen on several glowing faces. The room was warm with lighting, milling guests holding onto their champagne and wine glasses. In his eyes passed delicate hands and fingers grasping onto drinks and lapels of desirable coats. Music quietly tinkered around them, falling out of the open doors leading to balconies along the far wall. The ceilings arched just high enough over his head to be slightly rich and pretentious, framed photographs wider than his arms were long hanging around the walls. The party goers dressed in casual style.  
Louis shifted past more of the people, holding his glass close to his chest. He felt as if out of place between their smiling faces. He moved off towards the balconies, the doors open wide with sheer curtains shuffling and exhaling quietly around the frames.  
He stepped outside, where the music was freer to flow away from his head, the smoggy air still clearing his thoughts. He found the curly head of hair among the crowd, angled away from the people, shoulders relaxed under his silky shirt. He still looked casual, as if perfectly straddling the line between pretentious and relatable. The orange light from the doors behind him cast warmth over his back while the light of the city left his face cold.  
He looked rich, yet.  
Louis made his way over to where Harry leaned against the railing of the balcony looking over the city, glass in hand, Zayn next to him as they spoke quietly. Niall walked away from the two of them, catching Louis’ eye and waving with a sunning smile before slipping back indoors.  
Louis paused next to Zayn, greeting them. Harry’s eyes met with Louis’ and for a moment all of the glamor fell away. The gold stars that rested on his lapel fell away, the diamonds across his cheek bones eroded, the glass shade over his eyes cracked and revealed his open, open face. Louis was struck quiet for a god sped second, tripped by the eyelashes that framed his eyes and made him look familiar again.  
Zayn sipped from his glass and hummed and quiet laugh, his own dark lashes angled down to his drink. Louis snapped to himself quickly, smiling pleasantly.  
“Hey, mate. How’s the, uh, film project going?” He let himself look at Zayn as they chatted, however aware of Harry in his peripheral vision he was.  
“Expensively.” He grinned, “The flights are killers.”  
“Ah, yeah, I bet.” He nodded, genuinely interested, fortunately. “How do you swing that?”  
“Being a cheap and poor bastard.” He smirked, Louis laughing along.  
“That all, is it?”  
“And sponsors,” He mumbled, nodding sincerely, “Bless, them, for sure.”  
“The work must be going well, then?”  
“Yeah, pictures are coming out wonderfully. Time of my life, really.”  
“Bit dangerous, innit? Some countries… sure they don’t take well to documenting.”  
“Yeah, definitely.” Zayn half grimaced, sleek distaste showing through. “People don’t like being called spade. No one likes being honest.”  
Louis glanced at Harry, to see his cool pretty eyes sliding from them back to the city across the edge.  
Zayn chatted for a few more moments, Louis catching up about his ventures into the warring countries and others. He’d seen the photographs, the graffiti on walls surrounded by too telling moments revealing snapshots of time and event. He’d seen the series, he appreciated them himself.  
“I’m off to get another glass, then.” Zayn smiled pleasantly, with all the blushing grace of a white snake.  
He left them alone and Louis stayed where he was, swirling the bubbling liquid in his clear glass, looking up at Harry. Harry had regained the cool gentile. It wasn’t off putting and he was still open, but the abandon was lost.  
“My project’s going splendid as well, thanks.” He murmured good naturedly, tilting his head to him. Louis turned his body to join him in his spot, leaning against the adjacent railing. The wrought iron supporting the both of them met at a joint in between them, bridging the distance.  
“Didn’t come here to praise your work, Harry.” He hummed, his voice scraping over the smooth edges of that curly head. His expression shifted a bit at that, meeting his eyes with a bit more reality in jade. “Think you get enough of that as it is, don’t you?”  
“Hm.” He mumbled, looking down at his glass of wine. He just couldn’t go for champagne, could he? In the moment, Louis almost felt tenderness. His downturned face held a boyishness and the honesty was back for a moment. He looked almost like that ridiculous face of dimples cast in English light, too long ago.  
“America, hm?” Louis mumbled, looking out over the city for a moment to see it alive and awake, the end of the year brought the parties spilling out from the poorly kept seams onto the streets.  
“Yes.” Harry murmured, taking to looking out over the balcony again, his face cold and nearly alone in the light. Louis couldn’t keep his gaze away, however, this was after all an uncommon sight back home.  
Something soft played out from behind them.  
“Shit song,” Harry grumbled, his brow creasing and a frown appearing, “do wish they’d change it…”  
“Don’t be a git.” Louis smarted, grinning at him as Harry pouted indignantly. “I bet you like the song anyway.” He rasped, sipping his drink out of necessity as Harry’s face opened again.  
Louis regretted how America nearly suited him as Harry shifted his posture to face Louis more earnestly.  
“How is Lottie?” Harry murmured, meeting his eyes. Louis’ stomach rolled meeting the soft fatigue of his gaze, it calmed him down too fast so that it left a swooping feeling in his belly. He caught back up.  
“She’s fine. Got a few job offers in her cosmetics. She’s amazing, really, off and about more often than back home.” Harry frowned.  
“Jay?” He mumbled, as if he worried she might miss her.  
“She’s alright.” He quieted, “Still sick. But she doesn’t want any pouting.” He smiled lowly, still letting some of the unhappy hover in the crinkles by his eyes.  
“No point in pretending.” Harry spoke, his eyes steady, cutting through. Louis frowned in earnest, his brow furrowing. Warm anger kicked awake; he wouldn’t be made vulnerable again while Harry remained at large.  
“You first.” He nicked. Harry didn’t look away, holding his hot blue velvet for a moment.  
“I’m glad you’re here.” He rumbled, looking down at his Louis’ hands. Louis looked down at Harry’s, ringed with silver and stones, beautiful around the blood red liquid inside his crystal glass. He was struck by the turn, the hot braveness of doing as he said and knocking Louis down with honesty. That braveness always struck Louis roughly when he wasn’t ready for it.  
“I’m glad you’re here… as well.” He murmured. Harry huffed.  
“Is that so?” He met his eyes again, soothing Louis, laying him down with honestly.  
“Yeah.” Louis nodded. “It’s not perfect. But it’s where you wanted to be.”  
“It was.” Harry nodded, looking down again at his glass. It must just be false perception on Louis’ part, how young he looked when he looked down.  
“Still?” Louis pushed brashly. Speaking before thinking.  
Harry looked up again, eyes calm and serious, denying him.  
“Must be.”  
Should have thought better of it, then.  
“Anne and Gemma are doing well. Des, too.” Louis murmured, gracefully back tracking an inch.  
“I know.” Harry’s eyes relaxed again. “Gemma’s flown out for a night, just after Christmas.”  
Louis hummed, disguising the bite of aggression and jealousy. His own phone weighed heavy in his pocket, the text invitation from Harry ringing in his head.  
“I’m glad.” Louis murmured, glancing at the few inches of space between them.  
“Are you…” Harry cut off, looking at him after a few moments of silence. He was being humble again. “You’re good, then?”  
“I’m well.” Louis answered, meeting his eyes honestly. He didn’t try to hide anything, it seemed, this time, to coax Harry into the same.  
“I’m glad.” Harry murmured, “Don’t talk as much as we used to.”  
Louis recovered so fast from his surprise it may as well be getting quieter.  
“No,” He laughed quietly, “You’re not exactly a bus ride away, now are you?”  
“No.” Harry smiled and returned the quiet giggles. He looked like an adult, grown into his bones this time, the wrinkles around his eyes making his eyes sharper and alight.  
Suddenly the participants, behind them began to yell and scream loudly, excitements thrown merrily of New Year’s approaching.  
“Happy New Year’s…” Louis lilted almost questioningly, letting them be comfortable together. He’s not got time to be challenging.  
“Missing a date.” Harry smiled, looking up at him. Louis huffed, smiling.  
“Missing champagne, too, idiot.” He clicked his glass against his. Harry rolled his eyes, setting his glass precariously on the rail. Louis watched as he took the glass of champagne from Louis’ own hands, taking a slow sip and opening his eyes back to him as he lowered the glass. The glittering liquid bubbled against his lips and the gleaming rim of the glass circled his mouth. Louis swallowed. He returned the glass to Louis’ hands.  
As the guests started to scream the countdown obnoxiously, Louis began to lose awareness of them. Harry, instead of removing his hand from the glass, closed his own over Louis’ fingers where they circled the glass.  
He kept eye contact as he pulled his hand in towards him, drawing him slowly into his air. He moved so slowly that Louis had time to break away, the seconds screamed by the guests moving by so quickly that they might miss the crest of the new year all together.  
Louis thought, perhaps, he should break away. Should take his champagne with him and fly home. The champagne was too heavy in his hand, he stayed.  
_“Five, four, three, two…”_  
Harry lowered his face until their heads bowed together. He kissed him.  
The warmth met over their mouths, chaste and close.  
_“Happy New Year!”_  
Louis pulled back, looking up at him. He was still open.  
“Sorry.” Harry whispered, blinking so slow.  
_Heartbreaker._ Louis’ breath left him.  
“S’fine.” He murmured.  
“Yeah.” Harry stayed close to him and Louis couldn’t regret it, still his ally. Still at home, still young.  
Auld Lang Syne played loudly from the doors, drunken guests singing along. The booming of fireworks shuddered through them and guests crowded out onto the balcony to watch. Harry’s eyes widened and he looked up to the sky, the color reflecting there.  
Louis drug out as many moments of the new year as he could at Harry’s side, leaving his hand under the warmth of his palm.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is thisshipsailsitselff . x


End file.
